


I Pick my Poison and it's You

by evieoh



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Porn With Plot, Smut, a tiny bit of plot anyway, awkward bunk smut, season 1 AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 03:16:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14095980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evieoh/pseuds/evieoh
Summary: Has anyone else wondered how on earth they could get it on in those tiny ass closets they call bunks? The answer, it turns out, is not easily.Season 1 smut.





	I Pick my Poison and it's You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stargazerdaisy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stargazerdaisy/gifts).



> Hi all, my previous account was hacked and all my fics deleted, so I am reuploading them all now. This fic was originally posted in April 2016 for week 1 of SkyeWard smut fest, my prompt was “My eyes are up here.”
> 
> This story came about entirely from a conversation between myself and stargazerdaisy where I wondered how on earth it would be possible for two people to bang in those teeny bunks on the bus (plus the total lack of privacy with the walls that don't meet the ceiling) and somehow ended up with Daisy demanding that I write this insanity. So blame her :P

It started with a drink; just the two of them sitting up late one night after everyone else was asleep except for May in the cockpit.

She’s not even entirely sure how it happened. Something about the dimly lit plane, the alcohol warming her from inside and loosening her inhibitions just enough, their voices low to keep from waking FitzSimmons. It all builds a sense of intimacy, the attraction she has been fighting for so long now coming bubbling to the surface. And somehow, before she even registers which one of them leaned in first, they’re kissing. His mouth is hot and insistent and hard against hers, his hands in her hair to drag her closer, all of his tightly held control unleashed from the moment her tongue brushes against his.

His hands cradle her head, angling her face just right as he licks heat into her mouth, the intensity of his passion stealing her breath. She meets him with everything she has, nipping at his lip before stroking the tender flesh with the tip of her tongue.

Ward’s hands grip her hips, and then he is pulling her off the barstool she was sitting on and into his lap, grinding his erection against her. Skye pulls her mouth from his, gasping for breath, and he moves his assault to her throat, licking and biting and kissing his way from her earlobe to her shoulder. Shivers spread down her spine, heat pooling between her thighs and she rolls her hips roughly against his, seeking friction, satisfaction.

He groans against her throat, his hands clenching hard into her flesh, and his hips thrusting up against hers. Her breathing is ragged now, her pulse pounding through her blood as she works herself against the bulge in his jeans, feeling her muscles flutter and clench against nothing. He pulls back from his assault on the hollow of her throat finally, his eyes unfocused and his expression completely wrecked.

“Bunk?” he asks, his voice hoarse, full sentences seemingly beyond him in this state.

Skye just nods wordlessly, words escaping her completely, not helped at all by the way he grinds his erection against her one final time before lifting them both from the stool. Her knees feel like water, and she stumbles before his arms come around her again, a look of concern in his eye, “You ok?”

“Uh-huh,” she mumbles as she angles her mouth up to his again. The taste of him is addictive and she needs more. He smirks at her before obligingly leaning down to meet her lips with his own, sliding his hands down to grip her thighs before pulling her up so her legs are wrapped around his waist. Carrying her, he stumbles into the walls only a few times along the way as they stop to kiss again or she attacks his ticklish neck with her teeth. He makes his way toward his bunk, dropping her on to the bed and then sliding on top of her.

One of Skye’s hands drifts down to the waistband of his jeans, slipping the tips of her fingers underneath and tracing the curve of his ass, while the other traces the truly impressive collection of muscles in his back as they flex beneath her touch.

He pulls back to tug his shirt over his head and ends up smacking his head into the wall as it curves up into the ceiling.

“Shhh,” she giggles at him while he tries his hardest to glare at her, but it’s ruined by the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth.

Sliding off the bed, he quickly kicks off his boots before he shucks his shirt and jeans, leaving him standing before her in just his underwear, a sight she very much appreciates.

But when he begins to crawl over her in the tight space, his elbow collides with the wall, hard, as he tries to fit his body over hers. She’s suddenly a little mystified into how someone as tall as Ward manages to sleep in a bed this size, let alone if there is enough room for them to actually do anything in here. Even as she reaches for him to check he hasn’t actually injured himself, she is shushing him, ever mindful of the fact that Fitz and Simmons are sleeping in the bunks just on the other side of the small lounge area, and the walls of these bunks do not connect with the ceiling. Speaking from personal experience, she knows how well sound travels from these damn things. (And good lord, there will never be enough brain bleach to get rid of the sounds of your friend having a sex dream.)

His mouth is back on her throat then, and she is smothering a moan against her own hand as he tugs her shirt up to expose her bra and leans down to explore her breasts with his tongue. Dragging the cup down with his teeth, his tongue flicks against her nipple, leaving her gasping as she writhes against him, seeking any friction she can find.

“Ouch!” She cries suddenly, desperately trying to whisper.

Ward pulls back immediately. “What?! What happened?”

“Your arm was on my hair and yanked it,” she hisses as she gathers up the long tresses and wraps them into a bun on top of her head.

“Sorry,” he murmurs. “Okay now?”

She nods and he moves back into her space. Holding himself up by resting his weight on one elbow, Ward hovers above her as he ducks his face back down to her boobs. Slowly he brings his other hand down her stomach to rest upon her waistband, looking up at her to check for confirmation before he pops the button and slides to zip down. She can’t stifle the moan she makes as his fingers first slip inside her underwear, and he freezes for a moment, his head snapping up from her breast again to give her an admonishing look. She grabs the pillow from under her head and bites down on it to keep any noises smothered, and he continues to slide his fingers against her slick flesh, dipping inside her briefly and then rubbing his slippery fingers against her clit as she arches against him. She can feel the hard bulge of his erection as he grinds it against her leg, his groan vibrating across her breast from where his mouth covers her, the sensations he is wringing from her causing her eyes to roll back. The pillow muffles the sound, but her keening moans are still noticeable in the stillness of the night as his touch becomes more focused, her orgasm approaching quickly as his fingers slide against her, curling inside her and causing her spine to arch completely off the bed as it hits her, waves of pleasure rolling through her. He eases her through it, his fingers still working her gently as he begins to make his way down her body, peppering kisses across her belly on the way down, his goal clear.

“Wait a second,” Skye murmurs, as she tries to awkwardly maneuver her body up on the bed to give him more room to work with. However with her legs still shaky from her orgasm she lacks whatever coordination she might ordinarily have and her head collides roughly with the wall just moments before her foot sweeps a heavy book off the shelf at the end of the bed and onto the floor where it hits with a loud thud.

Skye can’t help the sudden urge to giggle that overtakes her at the ridiculousness of the picture they must make: her shirt pushed up around her shoulders and the cups of her bra pulled down to expose her breasts, her jeans undone and her hair mussed and face flushed, with Ward wearing only his underwear, his erection straining hard against the fabric. The two of them tangled together hopelessly on the small bed, Ward’s hands gently holding her head to check for tenderness where she smacked it into the wall, and the blanket has somehow come loose in their attempts to maneuver their bodies in the small space and now it is wrapped completely around her left ankle. Ward meets her eye as the first smothered giggle begins to bubble to the surface, and she can see his mouth twitching like his is about to give in to the humor in their situation.

But then they both freeze as Jemma’s sleepy and annoyed voice carries across the bunk area, “Can you two  _please_  try to keep it down over there?”

It’s like being doused with a bucket of ice water. Staring at Ward in horror, she realizes that the others most definitely know exactly what was going on in here. Skye scoots away from him on the bed.  _Oh God._  How on earth is she ever going to be able to look either of them in the eye tomorrow? What if May heard them too?  _What if Coulson did?_

How is she even going to be able to look at Ward again? She has to train with him in roughly four and half hours. She’s stuck in a goddamn plane with these people, there is no avoiding any of them, and  _oh God, this was possibly the worst idea she has ever had._

Quickly righting her clothing as best she can in the small room without further injury to either of them, her cheeks burning hot as she finally meets Ward’s eyes briefly. He is still sitting frozen on the bed, his face a perfect mirror for the horrified embarrassment she imagines is on her own. She feels like she needs to say something,  _anything_ , to try and diffuse this situation, to make it so that there is at least one person she can look in the eye in the morning.

“Um. Thank you?” She blurts out, horrified at herself the moment the words leave her lips, trailing off to sound almost like a question at the end.

Ward’s head snaps up and her stares at her blankly for a second before he manages in almost the same tone, “You’re welcome?”

That does it. She nods once, a kind of uncontrollable spasm more than anything resembling a deliberate gesture, before flinging the door to his bunk wide open and fleeing.

 

* * *

What follows is one the most awkward weeks of Skye’s life. Simmons opens her mouth to tease her the morning after, but the mortified (almost to the point of tears) look on Skye’s face, and the stone faced expression on Ward’s when he joins the two of them in the kitchenette, seem to freeze her words in her throat. And Skye has never been more thankful for the almost psychic connection that Fitz and Simmons share, when he joins them she sees every single comment he is about to make die on his lips at the look Simmons shoots at him.

Still, Skye avoids the two of them as much as she can. She knows they will have questions, and if they don’t tease her about it then they’ll be sympathetic and in some ways that almost seems worse.

She attempts the same with Ward, but it’s a little hard with a twice-daily training schedule. Not to mention the whole, you know, living in a suddenly way too small-feeling plane. There is not a lot of room to avoid someone. So she makes do with just never meeting his eyes, responding to a point over his left shoulder when she needs to. Mostly it’s the embarrassment that still burns hot in her veins. But as the time passes, and she lies awake at night and remembers the way he looked as he held himself above her, the way his hands felt on her, inside her, the heat begins to make its way steadily between her thighs. So now a good portion of the avoiding him is because she honestly doesn’t trust herself not to grab him and beg him to just put his body on top of hers. At this point she feels wound tight enough that the weight and heat of him against her might honestly be enough to get her off. She can’t even do anything to relieve the tension herself, too embarrassed at the thought of one of the others hearing her in the bunks now.

Dragging herself out of bed for another pre-dawn training session, aka close quarters torture with the guy she can’t bring herself to make eye contact with, but also can’t stop imagining running her tongue over every inch of his body, Skye groans in the predawn darkness, trying to scrub the tiredness from her face.

Once again, training is an exercise in awkwardness and sexual frustration, Skye’s cheeks flushing whenever his body (frequently) brushes against hers, almost whimpering at one point when the back of his hand grazes her breast, her nipples immediately hard and aching for touch. She just tries to keep her head down and hopes that she can get through this as quickly as possible and escape to the shower. At least there she has the modicum of privacy and might actually be able to relieve herself of this burning desire, or at least take the edge off it.

But her distraction is obvious, she keeps fumbling basic moves, flinching away from his touch and refusing to meet his gaze directly.

“Skye,” he eventually snaps in exasperation. “My eyes are up here. If you don’t actually look at me, how do you expect to be able to follow me?”

She finally drags her eyes up to meet his, fighting the urge to grimace as she remembers the way she ran from his bunk. They really need to talk this out so they can move past it. But the idea of being the one to bring it up feels even worse than this awful week of walking on eggshells around each other. So she simply nods and tries to pay better attention after that.

She manages to pull off a few moves correctly, but then Skye tries to sweep his leg out from under him, but she gets distracted by the heat of him pressed up against her, fumbles the move, and her momentum ends up sending her to the mat instead. And of course since she never let go of his arm, he ends up following her down, winding up sprawled on top of her on the mat, his body pressing against hers intimately.

It is such a cheesy rom-com cliche that she almost wants to laugh, but at the feel of his body pressing hers into the floor, his elbows braced beside her shoulders and his pelvis flush against hers, Skye can’t control the shiver that spreads through her. And he notices, if the way his eyes darken as he looks down at her is anything to go by.

Both of them remain frozen, holding their breath in the stillness of the moment and then, slowly, deliberately, Ward rolls his hips against hers, the growing bulge in his shorts rubbing against her where she is already wet and aching for him. Skye can’t help the gasp that slips from her lips at the feel of him, tilting her hips up to try and gain a better angle.

As her mouth falls open, Ward is already leaning in, his mouth hot and demanding against hers, his tongue sliding between her lips and brushing against her own. Between that and the tortuously teasing way he is grinding his hips into her, she can’t stop from moaning into his mouth. It seems to spur him on, as he shifts his weight to one arm and slides the other hand down her side to the hem of her loose workout shirt, slipping beneath it and trailing against her skin underneath before cupping her breast in his hand. Skye arches her back, pushing herself into his touch, demanding more, and he complies, slipping beneath her sports bra and tweaking her nipple, hard. She moans again, biting his lower lip as her hand moves down to his ass, trying to pull him harder against her. Now it’s his turn to groan, pulling back from the kiss to rest his forehead against hers, both of them breathing heavily.

Once again they both still, recognizing the magnitude of the decision they are on the verge of here, once they cross this line (again, sober this time at least), things between them will change forever. But as Skye leans back up to capture his lips with her own again, drawn to him like a magnet, she realizes that things between them have already changed. This is just the path they have been hurtling towards since the day they first met, the sparks between them flaring the first time they faced each other in The Cage. This was inevitable. And judging by the way he dives into the kiss, she guesses he came to a similar conclusion. (Or the sexual frustration of the last week has driven him just as completely out of his mind as it did her.)

Skye moves her hands to the hem of Ward’s shirt, needing to feel his naked chest pressed against her, but just as she begins to drag it up towards his shoulders they hear a noise from upstairs and the two of them freeze again, both suddenly realizing just how exposed their current location is and both having horrifying flashbacks to the last time they were in this position. But after a week of painful awkwardness, and a constant ache between her thighs at the memory of his touch, Skye honestly refuses to go another minute without getting him completely naked and inside her.

Thinking fast, she wiggles out from under him. Well, she tries to, but doesn’t get very far until he obligingly moves his weight off her, looking a little confused at her sudden movement. Jumping up she grabs his hand and pulls him to his feet, dragging him behind her as she marches through the lab and through the narrow corridors in the belly of the plane until they reach one of the storage rooms.

“This’ll do,” she announces as she shoves the door closed behind them, before rounding on him with a determined look in her eye.

He is looking back at her with a mixture of amusement and cocky smirkiness, so she decides to try catching him off guard. Grabbing the hem of her shirt she drags it up over her head and drops it on the floor. The look on Ward’s face has definitely changed now, as he steps closer to her in the dimly lit room. Licking her lips, loving the way his gaze sharpens at the action, she moves on to her sports bra next, slowly pulling it over her head as well.

She remembers that day in the interrogation room, the way his eyes were drawn to the hint of her cleavage as she leaned towards him across the table. That’s nothing compared to his reaction now, he steps toward her like he’s pulled by some magnetic force, his eyes never leaving her breasts, drinking in the sight of her like a man dying of thirst.

“My eyes are up here, Ward,” Skye smirks as she repeats his earlier words back at him, pushing her breasts together with her arms and leaning back against the wall, feeling a shiver run down her spine as his darkened eyes finally come back up to meet hers. There is an edge of danger in his gaze, something primal that makes her feel like he might devour her whole ( _oh my, what big teeth you have_ , she thinks as he looks at her, suddenly feeling every bit like Red Riding Hood faced with the wolf) and maybe it should be enough to make her take a step back and rationally assess the consequences that might come from this action. But all it does is make her reach her hand out to fist in the collar of his shirt, dragging his mouth back to hers.

His teeth scrape across her bottom lip and she groans into his mouth, her arms looping around his shoulders to give her leverage as she scrambles to wrap her legs around his hips. Ward’s body is pressed hard against her, the wall at her back, and he quickly wraps his hands under her thighs to hold her up. Something is digging into her spine in a way that she’s pretty sure is going to leave a bruise, but she wouldn’t change their position for anything in the world right now, groaning as he grinds his erection against her.

Skye’s head falls back as she gasps for breath, and Ward moves his assault to her throat, licking and biting at her sweat-salt skin. Suddenly her feet are back on the ground and she opens her eyes in confusion and surprise, before she sees Ward bending to his knees before her, licking a trail of heat across her belly and up to the soft curve of her breast. She can only just make out his features in the dim red light from the control panels on the opposite wall, but there is a glint of light reflecting off his eyes so she knows he’s looking up at her face as his mouth closes around her nipple. She tries to hold his gaze but her eyes slide shut at the feel of his tongue flicking against her sensitive flesh.

Her hands are in his hair and she is honestly not sure anymore if she’s trying to pull him away or pull him closer, but he chuckles with his mouth still on her breast and she groans as her knees falter, his hands on her hips the only thing holding her steady. Eventually he pulls away, huffing another laugh against her skin at her whimper, before ducking down to untie her shoes, slipping them off her feet and then reaching back up for the waistband of her workout pants. Glancing up at her briefly to seek permission, he slides the stretchy fabric down her thighs, pulling her underwear with it. Ward leans in, his tongue licking through her slick flesh, sending a shock sparking through her, his mouth attaching to her clit as he tugs her mildly uncooperative pants over her feet. The things he is doing to her with his mouth are leaving her gasping for breath, but she grabs him by the ears and pulls him back to standing anyway. It’s been a full week of torturous dreams about him, and an ache between her thighs begging to be filled. She needs him inside her  _now._  There can be time for sweetness and everything else later.

He groans as she pulls him away, but comes willingly all the same, pulling his shirt over his head before he ducks his head to kiss her again. Skye moans into his mouth again at the feel of her nipples brushing against his bare chest, and then Ward’s hands are hooked under her thighs again, hoisting her back up so her legs are wrapped around his hips and her back pressed against the wall. He slides a hand between their bodies, shoving his pants down enough to free his erection, the back of his hand brushing against her clit and causing her to arch against him with a gasp. Ward swallows the sound with his mouth against hers, his tongue slipping between her lips just as his cock slides inside her.

Skye’s head falls back against the wall, her mouth opening in a gasping moan at the feel of him filling her. Ward’s forehead is resting against her shoulder, breathing heavily as he tries to maintain control, keep his pace slow and steady. It’s driving her insane, the agonizingly slow slide of him inside her, hitting every good spot along the way, pulling almost all the way out of her before pushing back in so fucking slowly. It is so good, the way he stretches and fills her perfectly, but she needs  _more._  She needs it harder, she needs his teeth on her skin, and his hips leaving bruises on her thighs. She needs him to lose control, to drop that facade of untouchable Agent Ward, and fuck her hard and dirty against the wall, while their friends sleep just above them.

Leaning her head forward, she bites down on the juncture between his shoulder and throat, her hands gripping his shoulders for leverage as she slams her hips against his, taking control and changing the pace roughly. He groans against her skin, and she can feel him clench his jaw as she grins triumphantly. His grip on her thighs tightens, his fingers digging into her skin and leaving marks, and there is something about that idea, of being marked by him, that has her shuddering against him. She scratches her nails down his spine, and his hips jerk roughly against her. And then he is slamming into her, hard and fast and she has to bite his shoulder to smother the scream she can feel building inside her. Her head hits the wall and she barely feels it, all her awareness focused on the feel of him inside her, against her, all around her. All of her senses are overwhelmed with him: his harsh breathing in her ear, the taste and the smell of him skin where her mouth is on his shoulder, and in the darkened room he is the only thing she can see anymore.

His thrusts are growing erratic now, gasping moans smothered against her skin, and she’s so close but just not there yet. She can feel him trying to hold off, his thrusts slowing as her hand slips between their bodies to press against her clit, and he begins to press open-mouthed kisses along her clavicle. He comes with a ragged groan, and she follows a moment later when he bites down hard against the curve of her throat, the pain spiking into pleasure as the heat washes over her.

The two of them sag against the wall for a moment, both of them limp and exhausted, Ward holding the weight of both of their bodies before he eventually staggers, both of them sliding to the floor in a tangle of limbs. Laying there, trying to get her breathing back to something approaching normal, her blood still buzzing from her orgasm, Skye racks her brain for something to say. They need to deal with this now, or the awkwardness of the last week will just reach a whole new and terrifying level, and they really need to figure out where things stand between the two of them. She doesn’t know if this was just a one time thing to relieve the tension and never to be repeated (but if the sparks trailing along her skin where his fingertips are absent-mindedly tracing patterns are anything to go by, the tension has not gone anywhere, not for her at least.) And if this is the start of something more, do they keep it from the team or do they tell them all what’s going on? What exactly is the protocol here?

Skye has just turned her head toward and opened her mouth to speak when she hears footsteps outside the door and then, “I swear I heard something in there, Jemma.”

She can just make out Simmons voice as she trails behind him, "What could possibly be in there, Fitz? It's not like we could have stowaways."

Skye and Ward both freeze for a moment and then make a mad scramble for their clothes. Unfortunately, panic, sweaty exhausted bodies and dim lighting are not the best combination for stealth and Skye ends up with Ward’s shirt tangled around her head and her arms pinned up around her ears as Fitz and Simmons open the door. She can hear Simmons surprised yelp as she collides with Fitz’s back, just as Ward gallantly throws his body in front of Skye's to block her pretty much entirely naked body from view. Luckily all he had to do was adjust his pants and he’s almost completely decent. Skye on the other hand is still struggling with his godforsaken shirt, finally managing to locate the head hole, and then wishing she hadn’t as she comes face to face with the sight of Fitz staring at the two of them in horror, with Simmons peering at them around his shoulder.

“You two better not have done any damage to the avionics,” he sniffs, before turning away and marching back through the corridor, Simmons trailing after him with barely contained peals of laughter.

Her entire body flushing with embarrassment, Skye finally forces herself to look back at Ward. “So...um. I guess that answers whether or not we have to tell the team.”

Ward is so completely still that she honestly can’t tell what he’s thinking, how he is reacting to everything that just happened, but then his shoulders start shaking, violently. She has a brief moment of wondering if he’s having some kind of fit before he turns his face to her and she realizes that he’s laughing. He’s laughing so hard it’s almost silent. Skye stares at him in shock for a long moment, before she feels the giggle bubbling up her throat, she feels faintly hysterical, and the idea of leaving this dark room and having to face her best friends who have now heard  _and_  seen her and Ward hooking up, is not a thought she relishes. So instead she just leans in when Ward tilts his head toward her, his mouth warm and inviting against hers as he pulls her closer. Eventually they will have to face everyone else, but for now it’s just the two of them in this room. Maybe staying here a little while longer isn’t such a bad idea...


End file.
